


Sex with Your One True Love is a Totally Legitimate Birthday Present

by Pegasus_Eridana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthdays, Coulson's tie is foreplay, Dildos, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, M/M, Nipple Play, Object Insertion, Schmoop, Sex, slight D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus_Eridana/pseuds/Pegasus_Eridana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Phil's birthday, and all he wants to do on coming home is some snuggles and maybe a birthday blowjob from his husband. But said husband has slightly different plans. And Clint always gets his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex with Your One True Love is a Totally Legitimate Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ismene_Jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismene_Jane/gifts).



> This is a little PWP that I wrote for the glorious Ismene_Jane's birthday, and she is so awesome that she edited her own gift fic. 
> 
> I am super embarrassed about the smut in this fic, but this pairing deserves all the schmoopy schmex and I can only hope that I have done that justice!
> 
> Enjoy, and don't judge me too harshly.

Phil let the door shut slam behind him, took a deep breath, and finally, _finally_ , allowed his shoulders to sag, and the superhumanly-able-to-resist-tiredness-Agent-Coulson persona slip away.

It had been a long, _long_ day, full of budget meetings and reviews, with a five-minute break to wolf down his lunch and take a few back-to-back shots of espresso before returning to his office. It would barely be exaggerating to say that, by the time the last meeting finished, Phil had been wishing that some kind of massive threat to national security would happen just so he could _get out of this damn meeting_ and stretch his legs a bit.

He hadn’t even been able to see Clint all day.  

 _And_ it was his birthday.

Phil craned his neck to try and get the crick out of it, and walked further into his and Clint’s apartment in the Avengers tower (Phil refused on principle to refer to it as “Stark’s Tower” because the thought was just too painful).

Clint was nowhere to be seen, which was strange. He’d had a pretty light schedule through the day, mostly just range time and a couple of Avengers PR things that should have finished ages ago.

Phil swallowed down his disappointment. Sure, he had hoped to spend the evening of his birthday with his husband, at least – maybe get a present and a birthday blowjob and then snuggle on the couch marathon-ing bad action movies and pointing out all the ways that the fight scenes were done wrong. Had that really been so much to ask?

Sighing, Phil opened the door to the bedroom, already shrugging his suit jacket off his shoulders.

And then stopped short.

_Right._

Well, the issue of where-is-my-husband was solved, at any rate.

Said husband was currently naked, sprawled out in a glorious stretch of golden skin, on top of the bed.

Hands cuffed to the headboard.  

Fucking himself on a very large, and very purple, dildo.

Obviously flexibility-learned-from-circus-days wasn’t just useful for difficult missions. Phil should know this by now. He, in fact, _did_ know this by now.

It’s just that his brain may have shorted out a little bit.

Long enough, at any rate, for Clint to open his eyes (his _beautiful_ , multifaceted eyes) and stare straight at Phil, and say in a voice that sounded way too fucked-out for the line of Phil’s suit pants to be okay with,

“Well, sir? You gonna come over here and take care of this ass like I know you want to, or stand over there and watch me do it myself?”

Led by the cock currently tenting his pants, Phil crossed the room, taking his time and trying to appear calm despite the fact that his blood was singing and thrumming through his body in one particular direction. He stood next to the bed and looked down at Clint, before raising his hands and slowly undoing his tie and whisking it off with a flick of his wrist.

Clint’s pupils dilated in a very satisfying way, and he gulped a couple of times before mustering a smirk back onto his face and licking his lips, eyes never wavering from Phil.

The rest of Phil’s clothing followed quickly, and Clint’s eyes followed each movement with single-minded focus until Phil was completely naked.

Holding his husband’s gaze, Phil bent over slowly, stopping just out of reach of Clint’s lips, and smirking slightly when Clint strained to reach for a minute and then slumped back down onto the pillows with a huff.

Which obviously jerked the dildo inside him, causing him to twitch violently and gasp,

“ _Phil, please!_ ”

It was possible (certain) that Phil was a bit of a tease, but he defied anyone, regardless of sexuality, gender, or normal levels of willpower to resist the sight of Clint Barton’s puppy eyes when joined with his desperate, needy voice, lips which had been bitten and worried into slick and swollen temptation, and his perfect body, trembling with arousal and tension, unconsciously straining against the cuffs in an effort to get as close as possible to Phil as quickly as possible.

Phil ducked his head all the way down and claimed Clint’s mouth in a deep kiss. Clint parted his lips immediately, and Phil took advantage of the invitation, slipping his tongue inside and kissing his husband until they were both breathless and Clint was whimpering slightly.

“Please, Phil…please…”

“Please, what, my beautiful boy?” Phil replied, the pet name slipping out easily as it always did when he got lost in the moment with Clint. He ran one hand through Clint’s sweaty, messy hair, and Clint arched up into it. With his other hand, Phil scrabbled for the discarded tube of lube next to Clint on the bed, and surreptitiously popped the cap open.

“I want…I need you to t-touch me, Phil, _please,”_ Clint gasped, hips undulating as he tried simultaneously to work the dildo deeper and to find something to rut against. Phil held his hips up just enough that Clint found no relief that way.

“Funny, I thought this was _my_ present,” Phil murmured, flicking his tongue out to taste Clint’s tantalisingly swollen top lip, already puffy and wet. Clint let out a noise that was half-chuckle, half-keen.

“Started out that way, but then you took too fuckin’ long to get home,” he rasped in reply. “And now if some part of you don’t get in some part of me _right fuckin’ now, sir,_ we’re gonna have a problem.”

Phil bit again at Clint’s swollen lips, and then in one smooth movement removed the dildo from Clint’s ass and replaced it with two fingers. Clint convulsed and swore.

“ _Shit_! Damn frickin’ competence, you know that’s a _major_ kink for me, sir, _fuck_ you are such a bastard, c’mon, Phil, baby, need more, please…”

Phil smoothed his unoccupied hand across Clint’s forehead and down his cheek, his jaw, his neck. Clint made a keening noise, which abruptly got more desperate when Phil’s fingers wandered to his nipples. Clint surged into the contact, voice getting needier and threadier as Phil gently pulled and twisted. Once Clint’s nipple was good and red and tender, Phil replaced his hand with his mouth, sucking and laving at the skin as Clint screamed with the pleasure of it.

It was one of the (thousands of) things that Phil loved the most about seeing Clint like this. It had taken so long to get to this point, where Clint trusted Phil enough to just let go and voice his pleasure and ask for what he wanted without viewing it as giving away a weakness, giving someone else a way to hurt him.

Plus, Phil _really_ liked playing with Clint’s nipples, so it benefitted them both.

It was only when Clint let out a sob-like sound and a broken, “ _Please, Phil!_ ” that Phil stopped alternating between Clint’s nipples. He laid one more reverent kiss to each and then moved so that he was kneeling between Clint’s spread legs, pumping four of his fingers in and out of Clint’s sweetly grasping hole.

He withdrew his fingers after a minute or so, earning a disgruntled whimper from Clint which quickly turned into a long-drawn-out moan as Phil slicked himself up, then hooked both of Clint’s legs over his hips, and slowly pushed in.

It felt like coming home, the way Clint welcomed him in, the way he sighed contentedly as soon as Phil was settled all the way inside. They stayed still like that for several moments. Phil saw Clint’s hands, where they were still cuffed to the bed, opening and closing. He reached up and linked one of his hands with one of Clint’s which immediately closed and clung on.

“You ready for me to start moving, my sweet boy?” Phil asked tenderly, sweat beading on his forehead from holding himself still for so long. Clint snorted.

“Which part of I’ve-been-fucking-myself-on-the-biggest-dildo-I-own-for-hours did you not get, sir? Yes I’m fucking ready!”

“Good,” Phil simply said, and started to thrust in a punishing rhythm that was the complete contrast of the gentle moment that had just happened.

Clint _screamed._

Phil damn well nearly did, too.

All too soon, Phil was racing towards his climax, and by the punched-out whimpers that seemed to be all he was capable of, Clint was, too.

Their hands tightened around each other, and Phil leaned forwards, not kissing Clint so much as touching their open mouths together, sharing breath.

“Come for me now, my beautiful, sweet, _perfect,_ boy,” Phil murmured.

Clint (perfect boy that he was) immediately arched and wailed, coming untouched and painting stripes all over his and Phil’s torsos.

The convulsions around Phil’s cock were enough to set him off, too. He came hard with a cry, pumping once, twice, three times more into Clint before collapsing on top of his husband with a sigh.

He lay there for a moment, gathering his breath, before getting up and moving to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth.

A whine came from Clint, and Phil hastened back as fast as he could, giving both of them a fairly cursory clean-up before throwing the cloth to the side, un-cuffing Clint (with a kiss to each wrist as he did so and a caress to muscles that must be sore by now) and pulling him into his arms.

“S’your birthday,” Clint slurred. “Shoul’n’t be the one t’hafta cl’n up. I’ to’lly ‘ve b’n able t’ do it in ‘nother minute ‘r so.”

“Well I happen to love taking care of you, especially when the reason you can’t do it for yourself is because I fucked you so well,” Phil returned.

Clint snorted, and draped himself more comfortably over Phil’s chest.

“S’why I married you,” he said contentedly. Phil pressed a kiss into his hair and scrubbed his fingers lightly through the tendrils at the back of Clint’s neck, making Clint purr.

“Thank you,” Phil said quietly. “This was the best birthday gift you could have given me.”

“Awww, present, no, that wasn’t even the big one,” Clint groaned, trying to peel himself away from Phil on arms that had not yet regained their strength. Phil tightened his grip and pulled Clint back down to him.

“It can wait,” he said. “Right now, all I need is a naked nap with my husband.”

“Well, in that case,” Clint said, and snuggled into Phil, face buried in the crook of Phil’s neck. He mumbled, “Love you,” and was asleep between one breath and the next.

“And I love you,” Phil replied.

Clint was the best birthday present anyone could ask for. 

Phil fell asleep with a smile still on his face.

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Well. WELL. I shan't be able to look any of you in the eye for a bit, but I massively love comments and feedback, so please do leave some and then we can part as unlikely (or likely, seeing as we're all here in the Phil-and-Clint-sexin' boat) friends. 
> 
> I am happy to take prompts, so if you happen to have one, feel free to leave it here in the comments, or over on my tumblr, for which there is hopefully a link above.


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